


Special Maintenance

by whitmans_kiss



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Deepthroating, M/M, Oral Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26883955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitmans_kiss/pseuds/whitmans_kiss
Summary: Miles O'Brien attempts to repair one type of coupling in the habitat ring’s ceiling crawlspace, but ends up accidentally coming across quite another.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 8
Kudos: 96





	Special Maintenance

**Author's Note:**

> Oops, Miles; I hope this doesn’t awaken anything in you.
> 
> For [acesandapricots](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acesandapricots/pseuds/acesandapricots), my wonderful friend and beta reader, and as always, for [toujours_nigel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/toujours_nigel/pseuds/toujours_nigel).

"Fucking Cardies," Miles cursed under his breath as he winced, pain radiating through his arm from where he'd accidentally rammed his elbow into a strut. The crawlspace was tight, worse than the Jeffries tubes on the _Enterprise_ , and the ventilation poor enough that Miles was sure he'd already sweated through his uniform. He could already barely keep a grip on the spanner in his hand, sweaty palms the least of the problems facing him in the narrow space. All he’d wanted to do was pop out one of the ceiling panels to get a little air, and while he’d managed it, he knew he’d have to stop by to see Julian in the infirmary later about his arm.

The lighting controls on the third level of the habitat ring had gone out, and once they'd managed to confirm it wasn't voles but rather just a bad spot of faulty wiring, it had once again fallen to O'Brien to shimmy in between the decks to try and sort it out. The good news, Miles supposed, was that at least he'd rather be too warm than too cold, and it was already so dark on the station that it didn't really matter if the lights were off. The dim glow of the emergency lighting strips in both the crawlspace and in the corridor beneath him was just enough so he could see what he was doing. Another minute and he'd be out of here, he just needed to reach that coupling and everything would -

"Fuck!" Miles yelped again as he hit his elbow once more on the same strut, accidentally dropping the spanner through the open ceiling panel where it clattered loudly to the floor below. _Goddammit_ , Miles thought, scooting forward enough to peer down through the opening to see where it had landed. As he squinted through the semidarkness, a door just underneath and to the left of Miles opened, and he could hear a pair of voices coming from within the room.

"Did you hear that? What was that?"

"Usually, my dear, when one hears a strange noise, the appropriate reaction is to keep the door _closed_ , not to open it."

That first accent was instantly recognizable as Julian, concerned and prim - and the second voice was familiar, but -

"Garak, there shouldn't be anyone in this section; they're doing repairs. I mean, we’re here, obviously, but you live here.”

"Well, Doctor, I don't see anyone, do you?"

Miles watched the Cardie tailor’s stocky figure step forward and look around, silhouetted in the doorway. Julian came up beside him, leaning out properly into the corridor.

"There's no one here," Garak declared, placing a clawlike hand on Julian's arm and turning to guide him back into the room. Julian hummed a skeptical noise of displeasure and straightened up, but stayed where he was.

"I should be going as it is," Julian said quietly, stepping now fully into the hallway.

“Not without a kiss,” Garak insisted, and Julian grinned a little bashfully.

If Miles hadn't already dropped his spanner, he would have done so again. He knew, of course, that the two of them were friendly - how could he not, when every other word out of Julian's mouth (of which there were plenty) was Garak said _this_ and Garak did _that?_ But for Julian to actually kiss him goodbye was something else, and this was not the sort of kiss that ended an evening - this was the sort of kiss that _started_ something, and Miles' own lips parted in a gasp to mirror Julian's as Garak swiftly pressed him up against the bulkhead.

One of Garak's arms had gone around Julian's slim waist, holding him close, the other cupping his face, turning Julian's head and directing the kiss at his own pleasure. Julian's hands couldn't seem to settle, skating up and down Garak's broad back, trying to grasp purchase on the rich fabric beneath them.

A quick hitch of breath and a groan from Julian, and Miles could see a sliver of light in the gap between the low curve of Julian's spine and the bulkhead - Garak had used his arm to pull Julian forward by the waist, pale gray hand firmly gripping Julian's pert arse. Miles watched Garak grind forward, using the resistance of Julian's shoulders against the bulkhead for leverage. He was momentarily repulsed by the consideration of what Garak would even have to grind with - he was pretty certain they didn't have anything down there at all, not on the outside, anyway - but it didn't seem to matter, as Julian's hips rocked right back into the tight, controlled rhythm that Garak had set. The kisses grew desperate, already heated, the slip of tongues visible between rough breaths. The emergency lights cast deep shadows on the ridges of Garak’s face, making his eyes seem to sink back into his head and his jutting brow become more pronounced, so it looked as though Julian was kissing a skeleton, skull bleached and bony with desiccated flesh where flush pink skin should be instead.

Miles watched, frozen, as Garak sank smoothly to his knees, his back and shoulders blocking most of Miles' view, but he didn't need to see in order to hear the shivering zip of a Starfleet uniform's flies, horrified that his own prick had grown hard and was now trapped painfully against the floor of the crawlspace. The hand that had been on Julian's arse slid to grip him now by the hip, and Garak's other hand disappeared from view beneath his scaly chin as he bent his head to take Julian into his mouth.

The sound Julian made should have been muffled by his fist, a knuckle stuffed into his mouth and bitten, but instead echoed down the empty corridor, ringing in Miles' ears before ricocheting straight to his groin. He could hear the wet, obscene noises of Garak working Julian's cock, quick and steady, but could only see the back of Garak's head, Julian's fingers curling into the greasy black hair all Cardies seemed to inherit, the light from the door panel reflecting off the lank strands as Garak moved.

One particularly vicious twist of Garak's wrist caught both Julian and Miles by surprise, and Julian's hand fell from his mouth to clutch at Garak's thick, ugly neck, exposed by the wide collar of his jacket. This seemed to spur something in Garak - he pushed himself forward as Julian threw his head back, and Miles knew without having to see that Garak had taken Julian all the way into his throat. Garak’s head bobbed back up without so much as a hint of a gag before slipping back down again, the scaled ridge on the back of his neck shifting as he moved in a way that reminded Miles of nothing so much as a swaying cobra, readying itself to strike.

Jesus, but it was hot in this crawlspace. Miles felt dizzy, nearly sick as he watched Julian’s chest heave and fingers tighten on Garak’s shoulder, torn equally between arousal and revulsion at the tableaux, his friend exquisitely beautiful in the faint blue glow of the emergency lights, the Cardassian kneeling before him inspiring nothing so much as keen disgust. Julian’s soft and broken little moans pitched themselves higher, took on more air until he was breathless; Miles watched as Julian’s long legs shook and Garak held him still for seconds Miles counted by the pulse he could feel throbbing in his own prick.

Garak pulled off with a slick, wet pop and stood again as Julian absolutely melted into his arms, mouth slack as he drew Garak into a kiss, sloppy and without finesse, licking into the Cardie's filthy mouth before letting him go. Julian murmured something Miles couldn't quite make out, but whatever it was caused Garak to laugh, a low and guttural rumble in his chest as his hands disappeared between them again, tucking Julian back away into his trousers and smoothing his uniform down. A final, possessive swat to Julian's backside sent him loping down the corridor towards the lift at the end of the hall, leaving Garak alone in the darkness, watching him go.

When Julian was out of sight, Garak turned back to his quarters, reaching with one hand to press the door panel and bringing the other to touch his shiny, swollen lips. Miles didn't dare breathe, couldn't move, heat crackling under his skin as he waited for Garak to go inside, just _leave_ , so he could finally yank that coupling and get out of - 

His blood turned to ice in an instant as Garak swiveled his head suddenly up towards the ceiling, eyes flashing bright in the dark as he looked directly at Miles, unblinking, fingertips catching on the edges of a wide, grotesque smile that bared the white teeth of a predator. A nip and a twist of his thumb; Miles heard a click as the nail caught on a tooth, Garak flicking his wrist forward towards the ceiling in an unmistakable crude gesture of acknowledgement and defiance before stepping inside, the door rolling shut behind him.

His elbow, Miles decided, wasn’t really hurt all that badly, after all. He could - he could deal with it on his own, probably.

 _“Fucking_ Cardies.”


End file.
